


Painted Constellations

by botanistlester (Skeletonflowers)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Photographer, Angst, Artists, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Phanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:42:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5227310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeletonflowers/pseuds/botanistlester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan is a painting major at uni who needs someone to paint on for his art project, and Phil is a photography major who needs Dan to model for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Painted Constellations

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: alcohol, mentions of suicide, a lot of Van Gogh talk, smoking, mentions of sex, homophobic comments, depression
> 
> Also found on tumblr @phansdick

There is a certain relaxation in allowing images to unfurl themselves from the bristles of a brush onto the white emptiness of a new canvas. The paint is smooth and fragile, breaking into nothingness if smeared or smudged, now an entirely new picture. The colours would then blossom into a new galaxy of flowery fields, the starry night sky, or even a dog waiting by a picket fence for it’s owner.

The possibilities were endless and alive; a painter does not have to live in a dull world when they can create their own.

But there is also with great certainty that artists have something missing from their lives - whilst they can create so many beautiful universes, they deal with having to be trapped in the cruel world that is the Earth and all of it’s humanity. It was no wonder that Vincent Van Gogh would eat yellow paint to be happy, claiming that “the sadness will last forever” after attempting suicide and lying on his deathbed.

Dan completely understood and could at least sympathize with Van Gogh while thinking about the endless possibilities, stuck in a classroom full of dozens of young adults who would rather be sleeping at the moment. The air was stale, smelling of sweat and pain - a disgusting melody between melancholy and morning coffee - that choked Dan until he could barely conjure another breath. The professor, with a long white beard and a head of silk snow, seemed to resemble a sad Santa Claus, voice tired and strained.

Despite creating wondrous pictures with his fingers and a brush, Dan was captive to a world where he paid too much to learn and had to paint objects that he would otherwise have no desire to in the first place.

“Alright, class,” the professor started, “Today you will be getting a project that will be due in three weeks.” He began to pass out sheets of paper that had the directions written on them. “Your assignment is to connect nature with painting by creating an image on different parts of nature. For example, a tree or a leaf, or anything essential to life. You will do five paintings on five related objects, then take a picture and binding them together so we can see your project.”

Dan pressed his lips together, reading the directions with tired vigor. Seemed relatively easy, except for the fact that he didn’t know what exactly to paint on. A tree seemed too rough, a leaf too small. He needed something smooth and easy to make a portrait on. 

He expressed this to Phil during his Art Orientation class with a grim expression on his face and a voice filled with hollow annoyance. Phil, whom he had met and talked to only in this class, listened while shading in his drawing of some boxes that they were supposed to be working on. Dan’s paper sat half-filled, abandoned to his bitching.

He always felt somewhat bad for Phil since he was forced to take drawing classes even though he was a photography major. He never really understood why photography majors had to take all of the drawing and art courses, but he never asked due to his fear of being judged.

After explaining his debacle in full-out bitch mode, Phil pursed his lips thoughtfully, tapping the pencil on the desk. “How about you do it on skin? The nature of humans or something like that. You could focus on a new body part for each painting.”

Dan dropped his pencil to the desk and gaped at Phil. “I swear to God I could kiss you right now,” Dan joked. “Obviously I couldn’t do it on a girl because then I would probably need to paint on her tits or something, which would be too weird. So that leaves-.” He narrowed his eyes and smirked at Phil.

Phil glared at him. “No way.”

“Come on, please?”

“N-O spells NO.”

Dan pouted his lip, attempting his best puppy dog eyes. “Pretty please with sugar on top? I’ll do anything you want me to.”

Phil sighed and started shading again, his eyes the colour of cyanide. “If you want me to be your model, then you have to be my model as well. I have a photography project due in a few weeks where i have to take a series of pictures to do with the human body, lighting, and contrast. So if I help you, then you should repay the favour.”

Dan shrugged but agreed, his stomach twisting in a strange anxiety. He felt a tad uneasy due to the fact that he and Phil were basically strangers. The only class they ever talked in was Art Orientation, and that was only because they sat next to each other. Hanging out was on another completely new level, and painting on Phil was an entire different planet of intimacy that he wasn’t sure he felt like travelling to.

“Did you want to come over to my place after class today so we could do that? Is this your last class?”

Dan nodded. “I would be honoured to come to your house.” But his nerves told him otherwise. He was never the best at hanging out with people, especially if he didn’t know the person that well.

Phil’s house ended up being a cute little apartment off campus with a single bedroom, a kitchen and a bathroom. Dan wondered why he decided to live on his own, but he decided not to mention it as he looked at the hundreds of photographs littering the bedroom walls. They were beautiful pictures from flowers to buildings to people doing everyday things, but somehow, Phil made each and every one of them look like a dream.

“Did you want any coffee?” Phil offered kindly, giving him a smile while Dan started to set up his painting supplies.

Dan shook his head, squirting some paint into his palette. “I made that mistake while painting before and I ended up drinking paint water.”

Phil crinkled his nose and did a little shiver. “I feel personally sorry for you.”

“It was awful.” Dan finished setting up, ordering Phil to sit in front of him. “I’m just going to start with your hand today,” he stated, taking ahold of Phil’s hand and turning it over so his palm faced the floor. “I’ll probably do an ocean.”

Phil just nodded, sitting perfectly still while Dan dipped his brush in a dollop of blue paint. He smeared it onto the pale skin of Phil’s wrist carefully, working the blue onto his hand until his entire wrist and down was azure. Then, he began to use different shades of blue and white to form the ocean from the beautiful sky all the way to the black depths of mystery. All the while, Phil watched him with a careful eye and a small grin on his lips.

When Dan was finished, Phil’s hand had transformed into a plethora of blues that somehow resembled the ocean, all the way down to the small bubbles under the surface and the tiny waves against the sky. Dan breathed out a sigh of relief and sat back, watching as Phil’s face turned into one of awe.

“That’s amazing,” Phil breathed and he looked so flabbergasted that Dan wanted to tell him to take a nap. “You’re an amazing artist!”

“Thank you,” Dan replied, looking away from Phil’s eyes as a dusting of pink filled his cheeks. He tried to will it away as he grabbed his camera. “Hold your hand against that white wall, please.”

Phil obeyed and Dan snapped a quick picture, checking to make sure that it turned out okay before taking one more just in case.

“I never want to wash this off now,” Phil whined, pouting at Dan in a way that made a giggle bubble in his chest, shoving him gently.

“You’re going to have to one day.”

“I’ll just never shower!”

Dan crinkled his nose. “That’s kind of gross.”

“Your mum’s gross.”

Dan rolled his eyes, attempting to change the subject. “When did you want me to model for you?”

Phil’s eyes widened to large saucers, the blue so bright that Dan wondered if he was the actual sun. “Right now if that’s okay.” He put his hands on his hips, squinting at Dan. “May I use some of your black paint?” Dan nodded and watched as Phil rubbed some onto his fingers, stepping so close to Dan that he could smell Phil’s cologne. Then Phil wiped the paint onto Dan’s cheeks, chuckling. “Much better.”

“The fuck?”

“Shhh,” Phil whispered. “You’re in my care now.” He pushed Dan over to the white wall, pursing his lips and messing with his brunette hair, smearing paint onto the ends as well to make it look a bit unruly. “Close your eyes and tilt your head a bit.”

Dan did what he asked, and his lips parted slightly when he felt more paint smear over them. The thought of Phil’s hands touching his lips made his entire body go hot for some unidentified reason.

“Perfect!” Dan heard before there was a click and a flash of light. Phil shuffled around a bit, moving Dan’s head to the other side, followed by another flash. The process repeated a few more times, the paint on Dan’s cheeks beginning to dry, crackling off into small flakes of black.

“Done?” Dan asked when Phil was silent for a few minutes. He opened one of his eyes to see Phil clicking through his camera, black hair falling into a sea of blue.

Nodding, Phil grinned and set down his camera, his eyes shining in the artificial light of his lounge. “Thank you for modeling for me. You were wonderful.”

“Do I need to model again?”

Phil nodded, looking sheepish. “Only a few more times if that’s okay.”

Dan smiled, watching the corners of Phil’s mouth twitch upwards to mimic his own expression. “It’s only fair, I suppose. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Definitely.”

-

“You been hanging out with Phil Lester lately?”

Dan grimaced and looked up at his flatmate, PJ. He could feel paint splattered over his cheeks and arms, slightly wet and uncomfortable. “Yeah? What about it?”

PJ sat down next to him, bending over his shoulder to stare at the picture of a cat that Dan was in the process of painting. His curly brown hair flopped in his green eyes, which he pushed out of his line of sight. “Dan,” He groaned, facepalming and leaning back in the chair. “Everybody knows that you’re gay as fuck. You only hang out with new people when you want to get in their pants.”

“That’s not true,” Dan muttered, dipping his brush into a glop of brown.

“Isn’t it? The last time you hung out with someone, you ended up screwing them.”

“That was one time.”

“Dan, it happened five times in a row.”

Dan glowered at his painting, not really in the mood for doing art anymore. It felt like bile was rising in his throat and he prayed it wouldn’t force him to puke all over the curly-haired man next to him. “That’s not the case with Phil. I need him for a project and vise versa.”

“Right,” PJ said, flat and unconvinced. He ruffled Dan’s hair with a whine of distaste from his flatmate. “Just keep in mind that he’s been dating someone for like two years.”

“Like I care,” Dan murmured with a scowl adjourned on his face. He heard PJ chuckle and walk out of his room with a noncommittal noise. But even though Dan tried to shrug off PJ’s comment, he could feel fire scorching his stomach, hands shaking as he tried to outline the cat’s body with a coat of brown mixed with white.

He sighed and set down his brush as he completely ruined his painting with the shakiness of his movements. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down to no avail. His hand reached to his side and pulled out his phone, where he went directly to facebook and looked up results for Phil Lester. He sent him a friend request before clicking on Phil’s profile page.

A picture of Phil with a gorgeous brunette woman in a white dress popped up, looking as happy as could be. Dan looked closer and noticed the woman’s warm brown eyes and large dimples, not too different from his own looks. He found himself glaring at the screen, at Casey Richman, as her name read, until a little red notification told Dan that Phil had accepted his friend request, followed by an immediate message.

Phil: u stalking me? ;)

Dan blushed, tearing his eyes from the screen to cringe. 

Dan: u wish.

Phil: We still meeting tonight?

Dan: My place at 6:30?

Phil: See u in two hours (:

Dan spent the next two hours browsing through pictures of Phil and Casey Richman without knowing particularly why. He lit a cigarette at one point, sucking the fumes into his lungs until his jealousy flowed out along with the smoke. 

The knocking on the front door is what made Dan jump, slamming his computer shut with more force than necessary. But even with the laptop shut, Phil’s smiling face next to Casey’s was burning through his mind. And then, the black haired fiend himself was standing right before Dan with a large grin on his face that morphed into surprise when he noticed the cigarette in Dan’s hand.

“You smoke?” His voice was squeaky with surprise. Dan found it quite endearing.

Dan shrugged, stubbing it on the ground outside before allowing Phil into his flat, watching as he took in his surroundings. “Not too much, just when I’m stressed I suppose.”

Phil made an understanding noise in the back of his throat, petting the stuffed animal of a cat that was sitting on the kitchen coffee maker. “Anything I can help with?”

Yeah, help me not be jealous over you, Dan thought bitterly, but he ended up just saying, “Not really. Sad, angsty artist thing and all.”

“They always say the best artists are sad.” Phil gave him another toothy grin and Dan could swear he could see a halo of light around him. Phil set his camera bag on the floor. “Your flatmate here?”

“He went to Chris’ house, I’m pretty sure.”

Phil nodded and Dan’s chest hurt a bit at the way the setting sun hit his eyelashes, making his eyes look like slivers of a glacier. “Where do you want me?”

The question, which should by all means be completely innocent, raised the hairs on the back of Dan’s neck. He flushed a strange colour of pink, glancing around the lounge for his painting supplies while mentally slamming his face into a brick wall. He didn’t understand how everything could be awkward as soon as PJ brought up fucking Phil, and now the idea was completely stuck in his mind. How Phil would look hovering over him, how his mouth would be open slightly as noises leaked from his throat, how his hair would stick to his forehead as he-

Dan shook his head furiously, trying to dislodge his nsfw thoughts (and slowly hardening boner). “Erm,” he stuttered. “Just sit on the kitchen floor, I suppose.” The last time they did this, Dan ended up painting a forest on Phil’s leg and he, in turn, got splashes of blue spattered across his face and arms and posed against a large expansion of grass where the eggshell sky contrasted with his dark hair and clothes. “I think I’m going to paint on your back today.” He cringed, trying not to think about how he was running out of non-awkward skin space to do his work.

Phil immediately nodded, sliding off his shirt to reveal an expansion of snowy skin that Dan had trouble looking at. He wondered how he was going to get through this session when he couldn’t even look at Phil’s bare chest. “Ready whenever,” Phil chuckled, stretching his arms over his head. “Would it be easier if I laid on my stomach and you just sat on me while you painted?”

Dan choked on his own spit, clearing his throat. “Ah- yeah, i guess it may help.”

He watched as Phil shuffled to where he was lying face first on the ground, his arms folded under his head for a more comfortable cushion than the tiled floor. “Now I’m ready. Mount me whenever.”

“Don’t say ‘mount,’” Dan snorted, attempting to use humour when really he just wanted to touch Phil’s bare skin. He shook his head once more before grabbing his paintbrush and squeezing out a few colours. Once he was finished, he took a deep breath and slowly shuffled over to Phil, putting one leg over his thighs so that he was pretty much straddling his butt. “You have Shakira’s hips,” Dan commented before he could stop himself.

Phil’s laughter shook his body. “I get told that often, thanks.”

Dan didn’t reply, instead just smiling and dipping his brush in a palette of black. He bit his lip, staring at the expansion of pale skin before deciding that it would be easier to dip his hands in the paint to spread it over Phil’s entire back. He tried not to think about his hands caressing Phil’s body and explained his plan to the man under him while spreading the black over his palms.

The paint was sticky on his skin and he decided to focus on that as he pressed his hands against Phil’s back, starting to spread the paint in long strokes. He imagined that he was giving Phil a massage, or even applying sunscreen to his back, but that just made him even more distracted, leaving him to stare at the paint rather than pale skin.

“It’s so cold,” Phil whined, shivering under Dan. He moved his head a bit to look back at the brunette, pouting. “I am a small child and I need to be warm.”

“Suck it up.”

Phil’s head moved back into place with a sigh, shuffling a little as Dan finished putting the black on his back, wiping his hands on a towel. “I have an idea in mind for the picture today, as it’s our second to last photoshoot. But it’s a bit weird now that I think about it, although I’ve been thinking about it since I saw you smoking.”

Dan’s head spun, wondering what Phil was going to ask as he dipped his brush in purple. “I’ll do what you need me to do.”

He saw Phil bite his lip, looking conflicted. “I would like to take pictures of you smoking and looking out the window so I could get the contrast of the smoke against the night sky. But for my piece, I think it would look better if you were- ah, nude.” Dan choked and dropped his paintbrush on Phil’s back, making Phil hurry to continue. “I would have a white sheet draped around your lower half so I couldn’t see anything, but I feel like it would be really beautiful if I could do it correctly.”

Dan’s face was definitely the colour of a strawberry yoghurt but he tried not to focus on that. The artwork on Phil’s back started taking form when he began to implement white and yellow specks. “Wouldn’t your girlfriend disapprove of you taking nude pictures of somebody else?”

“Um, I mean, I’ve had to do it in class before so I don’t think Casey would mind too much, especially since you’re a guy.”

Que a stab in the heart where Dan felt a stake pierce through his chest. “And you won’t see my dick?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Dan nodded slowly, letting out a stressed sigh. “Fine. Maybe it could make me look more like a depressed artist than I already do.” He tried to finish as slowly as possible to delay having to strip for Phil, but his work was done too soon anyways, a galaxy painted on Phil’s back. He took a picture quickly, showing it to Phil and taking pride in the way he gasped in awe.

Dan liked to think he was good, even if he wasn’t better than the other few hundred students in his painting program. 

“I always get so upset when I have to wash off your art,” Phil sighed, standing up and stretching his arms above his head so that the paint cracked slightly on his skin.

Dan shrugged. “I have a picture of it, so it’s not a big deal.”

“But it is! Your art is too beautiful to be washed down the drain.” Dan didn’t answer so Phil sighed again and started messing with his camera, still completely shirtless. “Did you want to get changed in your room?” He held up a white sheet that he’d retrieved from his bag. “You can put this around your lower half and then I’ll tell you what to do from there.” 

Nodding, Dan took the sheet from him and retreated to his bedroom. His palms began to inevitably sweat with the thought of being pretty much nude in front of Phil. He stripped off his shirt first, his cheeks hot as he thought of Phil’s eyes roaming his body, taking pictures through a lens as he chose angles to make Dan look more beautiful than he actually was. His jeans followed soon after, closely chased by his pants to leave him cold and all skin. Shivering, he wrapped the sheet around his waist and took a deep breath to emerge back into the lounge, where Phil was waiting patiently.

He could feel Phil’s eyes on him as soon as he left the room, his skin turning red where those eyes smouldered on his bare chest. Dan averted his eyes, a bit embarrassed about his physical appearance while Phil was still completely dressed and gazing at him with a look of purity.

(He may have wished that those eyes weren’t so pure at that moment, but instead filled with fire and wanting).

“Great!” Phil exclaimed, looking him over with an expression of approval. “Go sit by the window on the desk I put in front of it and light a cigarette while I preen you.”

Dan obeyed without a word, sitting on his desk and facing the window whilst trying not to flash Phil. He took a cigarette from a nearby carton, the lighter failing to light it three times before smoke started to sail from the cigarette into the air. He sucked in a deep breath from it, feeling warm as the grey clouds inhabited his lungs.

Phil immediately started walking around him with a critical eye, reaching out to fluff the blanket around Dan’s hips to where it was dipping down to show a bit of hipbone. “Put your leg to the side a bit.” Dan looked at him in confusion, to which Phil rolled his eyes and held the sheet in place while he physically moved Dan’s leg himself. He moved it to the side so that his knee was up in the air, his elbow resting on it and his hand holding the cigarette in the air to show the white smoke against the dark window. The sheet was now only covering his hip, butt, and pelvis, his pale thigh completely out in the open for the world to see.

If only PJ could walk in and see them now.

“Perfect,” Phil murmured, stepping back to admire his word. Dan wondered how he could keep such a straight face while staring at a naked man hidden under a blanket. He wondered if Phil was as nervous as he was right now. “This is beautiful.”

If Dan was facing Phil, he wondered if he could tell whether Phil was talking about him personally or aesthetically.

There was some shuffling and a flash, before some more shuffling and a click where Phil didn’t use flash. Dan could hear Phil’s heavy breathing, as if he had just ran up and down the stairs, and he wondered if he also sounded like that. He wondered if he turned Phil on.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he shook it off. Phil had been dating Casey for two years. Why would anyone turn him on, especially another man? He didn’t even know if Phil liked men at all.

After a while, Phil went silent and let out a huge breath of air. Dan glanced at him out of the corner of his eye to see Phil staring at him with a forlorn expression, his lips tilted downwards.

“You okay?” Dan asked, turning towards him a bit.

Phil blinked like he was breaking out of a trance and smiled, all traces of melancholy diminishing with one glance. “Of course.” He gave Dan a smug smirk. “You can put your clothes back on if you want.”

“Only if I want to?” Dan joked.

“Clothing is optional.”

Dan put his clothes back on anyways, Phil’s words flitting through his head as he tricked himself into believing Phil was actually flirting with him.

-

“I’m not going to have you model for me today,” Phil stated as soon as Dan stepped through his threshold. He noticed how Phil’s hair was mussed as if he’d been running his hands through it, and his eyes were considerably dark, void of light. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in twelve years.

Dan raised his eyebrows, looking at his friend quizzically. “You okay?” He asked slowly, having a slight deja vu from the other day.

This time, though, Phil pressed his lips into a tight line and avoided the question, instead shooting back a question of his own. “Where did you want to paint on me today?” His voice was flat and it made a bundle of nerves clench at the inside of Dan’s stomach. He didn’t like seeing Phil like this, so emotionless, so much like himself. Phil was typically the ball of sunshine and a beautiful cinnamon roll too pure for the world so Dan had to remind himself that everyone had days like this. 

“Uh,” Dan began, biting his lip as he surveyed Phil’s face, picking up the little blemishes and the lines between his furrowed eyebrows. “Are you sure you’re up for me being over? I don’t want to force you to be my model if you’re not in the mood.”

Phil exhaled loudly and gave Dan a tired smile. “It’s fine, Dan. I promise. Maybe your painting could calm me down.”

Dan nodded hesitantly and led Phil to the kitchen where he did his usual routine of setting up his paints. He decided that he was going to paint a tropical bird on Phil’s face, using his nose as a beak, and dished out the yellows and oranges and reds that would make up the bird. He told Phil this as he sat on the floor without a smile that made Dan’s heart hurt. But he didn’t say anything and instead focused on dipping his brush into paint.

Phil’s eyes closed and Dan had to force himself not to get closer than he needed to be, dashing a streak of cobalt blue on Phil’s cheekbone. Phil’s lips parted as if he was awaiting a kiss, so close that Dan could hear Phil’s little sighs whenever he put a new dab of paint on his face. He imagined leaning that little bit closer to press their lips together, tangling painted fingers in black hair and drinking in each other’s essence.

Dan didn’t notice he was staring off into space until Phil spoke up, eyes still shut. “My girlfriend and I are having issues,” he stated.

“Oh?” Dan didn’t want to admit that his voice may have cracked. “Why?”

“She thinks I’m spending too much time with you, apparently. So after the next meeting, we will probably have to stop meeting up so much.”

Dan frowned, watching as a drip of red paint dribbled down the tip of Phil’s nose like a spatter of blood. It reminded him faintly of Dexter and he retrieved a tissue to wipe it off. “But you’re not even gay.”

Phil let out an exasperated sigh, his eyebrows furrowed to make the splashes of yellow collide with red. “Yeah, but you are, Dan.”

Fire flared into Dan’s cheekbones. He imagined taking a fistful of paint and slamming it onto Phil’s face to form a cacophony of wondrous colours, an image that took no form but had a drizzling of meaning. “Is my being gay a problem?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Phil muttered, taking note of the flatness of Dan’s voice. “She’s scared you’ll try to 'steal me away from her’. As if that would happen.”

Dan’s frown turned into a full blown scowl, a supernova of hurt and offense. Phil’s eyes were still shut as he made a few more strokes with red, red, red. The beautiful bird was now turning into fire, dancing around Phil’s lips, burning his skin with burgundy.

Without another word, Dan grabbed his phone, snapped a picture, and stood up, gathering his things quickly while Phil stared up at him in utter confusion.

“You’re leaving already?” Phil’s voice was on the verge of surprise, his blue eyes confused as he look up from his spot on the floor.

“Tell your girlfriend,” Dan started slowly, busying himself with washing the paint from his hands and brushes. “That she doesn’t have to worry about a gay man trying to steal you away.” Red was flowing down the sink, closely followed by blue and yellow. The towell was filled with colour as he dried them off and packed them up, ignoring Phil’s confusion. “Just because I sleep around with a few guys doesn’t mean I’ll jump the bones of a taken heterosexual man. I’ll see you later, Phil. Enjoy your fucking bird painting.”

He slammed the door without knowing what he was really angry about. And when Phil sent him a text asking him why he painted flames instead of a bird, he didn’t reply.

-

If jealousy was a bitch, then school was definitely the queen of bitches. No matter how much Dan wanted to avoid his last painting, he ended up caving in and texting Phil two days before his project was supposed to be turned in.

Dan: meet me at my house, 6pm. Have unfinished business.

Phil: ok.

Dan didn’t want to admit that he was a bit disappointed by his classmate’s lack of enthusiasm. He expected some sort of exclamation of how much he was missed, not a simple “ok,” with a period, no less.

So at six o'clock precisely, Dan hears a knock at his door and mentally prepares himself as he swings it open to reveal Phil looking considerably less like shit than he did a week ago. “Hey,” Dan mutters, not meeting his eyes. He wanted to paint on Phil and get him out.

“Hey, Dan,” Phil chirps enthusiastically, as if nothing had ever happened between them. “How have you been?”

Dan resists the urge to roll his eyes and makes Phil follow him to the kitchen. “The usual,” he replies. “Fucking random guys and being a massive gaylord.”

He sees Phil frown out of the corner of his eye and tries not to laugh in his face. “You’re still mad about that?”

“I mean, you’re straight so you sleep around with everyone, right?” Dan mocks in a high pitched voice, and maybe he was being a bit unfair or childish, but he was feeling extremely bitter about the situation, especially since he had massive feelings towards this unrelenting heterosexual.

“That’s not fair to assume that.” Dan gives him a pointed look as he sets up his paints. His mouth had a terrible taste in it, like black tar and dirt. “Okay, I’m sorry. It was very rude of me to say those things to you and you didn’t deserve to be told those sorts of things and I am utterly sorry.”

Dan could feel himself calm down a bit at the words, melting under the soft blue of cerulean irises. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. “It’s fine,” he finally forced out. “Just please don’t assume those things again. I promise I’m relatively harmless.” He turned and surveyed his classmate up and down, eyeing his plaid shirt. “Although I am going to need you to take off your shirt for me.”

“There you go hitting on me already,” Phil joked playfully, removing the shirt in one fluid motion to reveal a pale chest and cute tummy. Dan’s cheeks flamed as he forced himself to keep looking at Phil’s face. “You going to paint on my chest today?”

Dan nodded, watching as Phil laid on the kitchen tile. Sprawled on the floor like that, Dan wanted nothing more than to straddle him and do naughty things that straight boys typically didn’t want to engage in. “I promise I’m not hitting on you, and I won’t do it if you don’t want me to,” Dan started slowly, “but straddling you would allow me to paint easier on you.” He didn’t care if it was a lie, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

Phil bit his lip, searching the brunette’s face for any sign of lying. When he found none, he nodded hesitantly, putting his arms behind his head. “Don’t try anything on me,” Phil joked, but there was an edge of seriousness to his voice. Dan figured that being friends with Phil after this may be a bit too painful, and decided right then that after the term was over, he was never going to speak to Phil again.

“I promise not to try anything on you,” Dan muttered. He tried to distance himself from the situation, float off into space and focus on the pink and yellow paints as he swung his left leg over Phil’s legs to settle himself onto his lap. Phil shivered when the paint touched his abdomen, letting out a groan of disapproval. “Wimp.”

Phil glared at him from under black eyelashes. “Shut up, it’s freaking cold.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not a wimp.”

Phil went to shove him before remembering that Dan was in the middle of a painting and pouted instead. He muttered something under his breath that sounded faintly like, “Fucking jerk,” but Dan liked to think he said a compliment instead.

The pink and white on Phil’s chest was beginning to morph into a picture, one of beautiful lilies that sprouted from his lungs. Dan was actually quite proud of this one, always having liked painting flowers more than anything else. He added a small dab of yellow in the middle of each flower, accenting them.

Phil had been quiet for some time now, his eyes closed and his breathing slow. Dan assumed he’d fallen asleep and finished his painting, snapping a photo before allowing himself to rake his eyes over Phil’s face.

So maybe he was a creep for watching Phil while he was sleeping, but he liked how Phil’s eyelashes formed dark crescents on his cheekbones, lips opened slightly. Dan let out a long sigh, averting his eyes and moving to get off- when a low groan stopped him in his tracks.

He looked down, wide-eyed, to see that Phil’s face was now flushed a berry red colour. He wanted so much to paint this sight that he took out his camera and snapped one more picture for later. He could already feel the brush in his hand, contouring the lines of Phil’s cheekbones with a steady hand.

Once more, he moved to get off, blushing slightly when his crotch brushed against the sleeping man under him. Phil let out another sound, moving around a bit before his eyes began to open, lip clasped between his teeth.

“I was just finishing,” Dan said, wondering why he felt the need to explain his actions to Phil.

Phil didn’t answer, grabbing Dan’s hand and yanking him forward to collapse on top of him. Dan felt like he had descended to the fiery pits of hell from the way his face was beginning to heat up so badly. But Phil didn’t notice, wrapping his arms around Dan’s waist and burying his face into Dan’s neck with a light sigh of content.

Dan was absolutely rigid. Didn’t Phil just get upset with him for 'pining after him’ when he had a girlfriend? And now he wanted to fucking cuddle in the middle of Dan’s god damned kitchen floor with paint smearing onto Dan’s fully clothed chest? He hoped to every living god that PJ wouldn’t walk in anytime soon.

Trying to let himself calm down, Dan let out the breath that he was holding, succumbing to the warmth of Phil’s chest and trying not to think about the paint that was staining his favourite shirt. Phil was obviously fast asleep, his grip still tight around Dan’s waist as he tried to get himself comfortable. Eventually, he found a position that worked for him, nuzzling his nose into Phil’s hair and inhaling the smell of raspberries. He never would have guessed that Phil would use such sweet smelling shampoo, but here they were.

He woke up to a cramped neck and being practically shoved to the floor. Someone was screaming at him but he was unable to process who, blearily blinking his eyes as he attempted to wake himself up a bit.

“-the fuck do you think you were doing, taking advantage of me like that?!” The voice screamed. Dan realized with growing panic that the screaming voice was, indeed, Phil. He looked up to angry eyes and a red face. “You know I have a girlfriend and you still tried to get with me! Do you have no fucking respect for me?!”

“Uh?” Dan wondered, his face flushing with confusion and upset. Last he remembered, he tried to get off of Phil and Phil was the one who pulled him back down. “I tried to get off-?”

“I don’t want to hear your god damn excuses! You’re disgusting and I never want to hear from you again.”

Phil began picking his stuff up, Dan watching with growing hurt. Why was Phil saying this stuff to him. “Phil, I wasn’t trying to do-.”

“Save it, you disgusting piece of shit.”

Dan’s mouth dropped open, tears stinging in his eyes. Phil’s eyes went wide as soon as the words came out but he wiped the expression away with a cool exterior as soon as it showed. Dan steeled his jaw, teeth clenching. “Get out,” he gritted out. He watched as Phil opened his mouth to snap something back, eyes like blue fire. “If I had known you were such a homophobic asshole, I would never have talked to you in the first place.” Dan stepped closer to him, pushing his index finger into Phil’s chest that was still caked with dry paint. “I have been nothing but nice to you since we met. I have respected your space, I have not tried to sleep with you, and as soon as I realized you had a girlfriend, I tried to back off. I can’t believe you would fucking blame this on me when you’re the one that tried to cuddle me as soon as I tried to get off of you. You have deeply hurt me, not once, but multiple times, and I am sick of your shit, Phil. Get the fuck out of my house. I’m ashamed to ever have had feelings towards someone like you.”

At Dan’s last words, Phil’s eyes grew wide, pools of water and ice. Once again, he opened his mouth and tried to say something else, but Dan was sick of it. He threw Phil’s shirt at him, followed closely by Phil’s backpack. “Get. The fuck. Out.”

“Fine,” Phil spat. “Fuck you, Dan Howell. I can’t wait until I never have to see you again.” He gave Dan one more rage-filled look and stormed away, still half naked. Dan heard the door slam, letting out a deep breath that came out more as a sob.

PJ came into the kitchen then. He gave Dan one look and brought him into a hug, resting his chin atop Dan’s head of curls. “Love sucks,” PJ whispered into his hair, rubbing Dan’s back as he began to let out small whimpers and sobs.

Dan thought about Van Gogh, and decided that maybe he wasn’t so crazy for eating yellow paint to feel happy. He wondered if the yellow would take over the blackness that was blossoming in his heart.

It was then he realized that eating yellow paint would not heal the pain of a broken heart.

-

Phil and Casey ended up breaking up a week after the incident. Dan heard it through PJ, who talked in a soft voice with eyes the colour of dewdrops on morning grass. Dan had only shrugged, stating it wasn’t his problem, but he couldn’t help wondering whether that was the reason Phil had gone off on him.

It would make sense, in all honesty. Casey and Phil were obviously having issues before. Maybe Casey was insecure about her ability to keep Phil, wondering if Dan would ultimately 'turn him gay’. Phil, in turn, was also insecure about whether Casey would leave him for spending time with Dan.

Two insecurities is the ingredient for a break up. A match made to ultimately disintegrate until there was nothing left but worries and 'when will they leave me?’

Dan didn’t give a single fuck about Phil anymore. And maybe that was a lie, but he couldn’t keep pining over someone who was detrimental to his own mental health, someone who thought he slept around with anyone just because he was gay.

Well, that last part was possibly true, but still. He needed some way to feel better, a way to not be so fucking lonely all the time. For a while, Phil had filled that void, but now he’s been adding to it.

Dan used to paint pretty pictures of flowers and dogs and stars in the sky. Now he paints with black, an emotional mess of tortured faces and wilting flowers needing to be watered. And occasionally when he couldn’t get his emotions out on canvas, Dan would find a guy, bring him back to the apartment, and fuck him until he felt a semblance of hope.

That would quickly fade away, but he tried not to think about that. Once the emotions would fade, he would wash and repeat. An endless cycle where he painted constellations onto black paper so he could feel something again.

He would feel okay again, he decided, but today was not that day. So he drew pictures on post-it notes and left them on his university desks, that way he could at least make someone else’s day when his is going bad.

Phil was just a passing shadow in a world of colour, but sometimes it feels as if Phil was the only spot of colour in a world of darkness.

-

“I swear to God, Peej, if you’re dragging me somewhere stupid, I’m going to actually pee on your bed tonight.”

PJ rolled his eyes at Dan’s pessimism, shoving his shoulder lightly. “I promise it’ll be fun. You’ve been a recluse for like two months, it’s about time you let loose and enjoyed yourself.”

Dan glared at his flatmate, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as realization flowed through him. “We’re going to a bar, aren’t we.” It wasn’t really a question, more of a flat statement. He already knew the answer.

“Bingo, motherfucker!” A couple walking beside them gave Peej a nasty look, proceeding to walk a bit faster. “A bar ought to make you feel a bit better, Mister Picasso. Even angsty artists gotta let loose once in awhile.”

If Dan could punch his friend in the face and have it be socially acceptable, Dan would probably accept the offer right now. “Drowning my sorrows in alcohol is not going to make me feel better in any way. Then, I would literally just be an angsty drunk.”

PJ clapped him on the back, the bar finally coming into view ahead of them. “That’s my Dan!”

It ended up being a nightclub with some cheesy name that blasted shitty pop music with too many people crowding the inside. The air was filled with the stench of sweat and cheap beer, the music making it nearly impossible to understand what Peej was screaming in his face. While Dan greatly appreciated Peej, now considering him one of his closest friends, sometimes PJ was more than Dan could handle. Tonight was definitely one of those nights.

PJ tugged him through the crowd with great enthusiasm, only stopping when they reached the bar. He shouted something over the music to the tender, his wishes immediately being answered with six shots of- was that tequila? Dan’s throat burned just thinking about it.

A bowl of limes were placed in front of them, along with a bottle of salt. Dan glared at Peej but decided fuck it, licking his hand and sprinkling some salt onto the wetness. He took a deep breath before sucking down one of the shots, eyes watering with the taste as he grabbed a lime and tried to douse the disgust from his mouth.

Repeat two more times.

By the last shot, Dan’s head was going fuzzy and PJ was laughing about something he said, even though he didn’t really remember what it was in the first place. The lights were blurred around them and the music was considerably less shitty than before, and he suddenly felt the dire need to dance.

Fast forward a bit and Dan was grinding against a stranger who faintly reminded him of someone. They would whisper things in his ear that made him laugh and he would, in turn, press kisses to the stranger’s jaw.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Dan asked the stranger, a hint that he wanted more than just a dance. Just another night to attempt at happiness.

The stranger agreed so Dan sent Peej a text to tell him what was up, stumbling out of the club with a hand wrapped around another guy’s waist. They made it back to Dan’s flat eventually, a mess of tangled limbs and heated kisses. Dan felt like his entire body was drenched in fire, lips sucking on the skin of his neck as he stripped the man of his shirt. It was followed closely by Dan’s shirt and jeans.

Dan didn’t care if he regretted it in the morning. After all of the alcohol and lust washed away, he would still be the same person, just with a stranger in his bed.

-

With a weird sense of deja vu, Dan awoke to quiet cursing beside him. He decided this time that he would pretend to be asleep, considering the guy wasn’t even cursing at him.

No, the guy in his bed was just cursing in general, letting out strings of cuss words that made him sound like a maiden in despair. After a moment of that, the guy let out a long exhale and Dan felt him shuffle around on his bed. Two arms wrapped around his waist as the guy hugged him to his chest, spooning Dan.

“Oh Dan,” the guy sighed softly, and Dan could feel himself stiffen a little. No, no, no. He could recognize that voice anywhere. He pretended to sleep still, curious as to what the fuck Phil was doing after blatantly stating how he never wanted to see Dan again. But here they were after a one night stand with Phil completely conscious and holding him tightly. “I never meant to hurt you. I’m the biggest asshole around.” Dan felt Phil lean forward, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder and nuzzling his face into Dan’s neck.

Dan decided that it was time to 'wake up’, stretching his legs and moving, making a noise of content. Phil froze, his arms tightening around Dan’s naked waist. Dan shuffled so that he was facing Phil, pretending to give him a look of surprise. “Phil?” He asked. He began to move away but Phil’s arms held him in place. “I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t know it was you last night. I understand if you want to call me disgusting and leave, but I promise I would never have done this if I was sober.”

Phil just looked at him with blue eyes that Dan didn’t realize how much he missed until now. His voice was soft when he said, “Dan, I’m not mad at you.” Dan had already gathered that from Phil’s earlier words, but he couldn’t let Phil know he had heard. “I’m glad it was you and not some weirdo.” His hand reached up to press some of the brown curls away from Dan’s eyes. He smiled a bit sadly. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Dan squirmed a bit under his gaze, his cheeks heating up as he realized they were both still completely naked. “Uh, not that I’m trying to kill the mood, but we are both very naked.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Uh-?” Dan didn’t know what to say and Phil’s skin was very distracting.

Phil hushed him by leaning forward and connecting their lips together. His lips were soft and warm with the aftertaste of alcohol, but Dan felt himself melting anyways, mind completely confused at the sudden turn of events. When Phil pulled away, his eyes were shining pools of sunshine. “I was such an asshole and I’m extremely sorry. I was scared because I had been with Casey for a very long time and I didn’t expect to find myself falling out of love with her. And then you came along and you were perfect and made me feel happier than I had in a long time, and I didn’t know what to do about it. Casey could tell, and she was scared to lose me, and I was scared because I’ve never craved the touch of another man before. And when you left, I felt like a part of me was gone. I cried a lot that night because you didn’t deserve those words and I knew I had probably lost you forever. But now that you’re here, I never want to let go again. Please let me show you how much you mean to me.”

Dan opened his mouth, at a loss for words. His entire face was hot and he never imagined he would hear these sorts of things coming from Phil’s mouth. Slowly, he nodded, leaning forward to kiss Phil again. He would probably never get used to the feeling, either. “I’m not going to tell you it’s okay when it really wasn’t.” Phil’s face resembled that of a sad puppy so Dan hurried on, “But I’ll let you make it up to me, I suppose.”

A huge smile passed over Phil’s face as he tackled Dan, pressing kisses all over his cheeks and forehead. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He chanted.

“Phil, we are still completely naked, get off of me!”

So maybe they were a match that had gotten off on the wrong foot, two people who were scared to step outside of their comfort zones. But now, they could paint over the black abyss of each other’s fear with the colour of golden sunshine and yellow happiness.

Whoever stated that, “the sadness will last forever,” was lying.


End file.
